Start Making Sense
by LePipi
Summary: Castiel is the noble knight that was assigned to marry Deanna of Winchester. In an attempt to prevent this marriage, the wizard Crowley will send him to the future. Where Castiel meets none other than Dean Winchester. AU Destiel Sabirel
1. Chapter 1

Start Making Sense

In the year of our Lord, 1123, king Michael the VI waged war against his cousin Lucifer the IIId, king of England and duke of Normandy. Many brave knights fought beside him. They believed in God and the forces of evil.

Such soldier was Castiel Oktavian, leader of his own garrison, all brave soldiers with a heart of gold set on defeating the evil lechery of Lord Lucifer.

Castiel's garrison was the bravest group of men in the whole Kingdom. On occasion, the stupidest too.

"Balthazar, we must descend now! My vassal has spotted the Horsemen!" –Castiel shouted at Balthazar from outside the small cottage.

"Love knows no hassle, my lord!" –The voice of Balthazar came out muffled, as more moans and breathy sobs came from the confines of the four walls.

Damn his men and their lust.

"Lord Castiel! They have spotted us!" –Gabriel, Castiel's trusty, if annoying vassal quipped from down the field.

"Curse you Balthazar and your lecherous ways! Onwards men!" –Castiel yelled over his men, who gathered in a heap behind him, ready for battle. Castiel wrung himself on his horse, stuck out his mighty sword, dropped his helmet over his face, arose his armor and left with a battle cry.

"Charge!"- And with those words, he and his men in a hassle of movements left for battle, set on defeating Lucifer's most prized warriors.

Although they were only four of them, they all had rings of black magic, courtesy of their Magician , whose name remained a secret, never to be revealed, never to be spoken off.

This was the fight Castiel and his men waited for, this is the one that counted the most.

If this fight was won, all that was left was trapping Lucifer, but more importantly, it was Castiel's turn to marry. If they won, Lord Michael would grant him marriage to a wench of his choice, the permission to leave descendants.

As they gained in speed and space, Castiel met the worst of them, the one they called Death. His men rushed towards the other three, swords clashing, blood gushing and sparks flying.

But, the one they called Death was his, Castiel had sworn on defeating him. He wore the name of Death, for they considered him to be undefeatable, immortal even.

Castiel was one of the most praised knights in the whole country, he had slain many more evil doers, he did not cave in front of a challenge such as 'Death' itself.

He raised his sword and with a cry made a swing at the man's greasy head, noting through the man's armor the sight of very shallow eyes, wrinkled and spotted skin.

In a flash Death's sword came to meet his own, eliciting a ring from the clash. Castiel's eyes squinched in anger, but still concentrated on flicking his elbow according to Death's movements, searching for a flaw in his defense.

They circled each other on their horses, Castiel's white knight of a horse named Grace, and Death's black monster, whose eyes shone like a dark void.

With a winning cry Castiel heard the satisfactory slice, as Death's head flew away of the body. Alas, the victory was short lived as Castiel noticed that as the slash was made, there was no blood sprinkling, and upon closer inspection at the throat, the bone was grey and tethered, looking burned, and the flesh was black, the throat emitting not blood, but smoke.

Castiel's confusion was short-lived as two black, tentacle like muscles ripped free from the throat and grabbed the forgotten head, carrying it in one fluent movement back in its place. And as a snap of bone and muscle was heard, Castiel saw a deadly smile in Death's eyes. In a flash, Death's sword was up and with more force and speed than ever he attacked Castiel.

Castiel, though taken by surprise, was trained for this, and quickly pulled his concentration back, fighting back with as much dedication and force.

Calculating, thinking of ways to defeat this immortal, Castiel came upon a strange flash of color. Giving a brief glance to Death's hand that held the horse's reign, he noticed a big square ring, which shone in gold and green.

Black magic.

Castiel remembered the spells of the local witches, remembered how the particularly evil ones needed a ring to hold the power.

Castiel allowed himself to smile, as he could almost taste victory, and with a quick swing he cut the man's hand away, hearing the final scream of a dying man.

He watched as the man started to trash and sob, finally sizzling into a pile of ash, as his horse did.

Castiel huffed as he took in the scenery that stood before him.

Piles of ashes slowly being taken by wind lay between the strands of greenery. He checked his comrades, all huffing and catching their breaths after a tiring battle. He counted them all, only two men lay dead between the grass fields.

This was a victory.

Establishing that, Castiel took off his helmet, dropping it to the ground with a sigh. He ran a hand over his face, brushing the droplets of sweat that lay there, pushing his greasy, unkempt hair back. Three months on the battlefield proved to have taken a toll on him and his body. He scratched at his scruff briefly and turned to his men, who silently awaited his next command.

"Victory!" –He cried, raising his sword, as his men did, and on went the cheering and laughing as they made their way back to their kingdom.

-/-

Back in the safety of their kingdom the men were welcomed as heroes, and in their honor there was a feast in the main hall of the castle.

The long miles of the table were filled to the brim with food and drink, around the men women danced to the small band of folk music, seducing with the movements of their hips, civilians came to offer their gratitude to the knights. The man sat at the table laughing and chatting, relishing in the fruit of their victory.

Castiel eyed the men with pride. He had done good to his kingdom.

"Settle down, men. Settle down." –King Michael arose from his seat at the head of the table, goblet filled with wine in his hand.

Castiel glance at his king, happy to have earned his seat at the right side of his king. The noise grew to a stop as the women scattered away, and the men grew silent, all attention to their king.

"Today we won an important fight. The road to victory is near. You will all be rewarded for your labor. But, today, we give sir Castiel, his much awaited reward."- And with that king Michael lifted his cup in the air, as all men cheered in union, raising their glass in kind. King Michael gestured for Castiel to stand, and he did, trembling with anticipation.

"But, I must warn you. As much as this is a reward, this is also a challenge."- The crowd grew silent with confusion. Castiel's brows furrowed at the change of event. He felt a dark pang of feeling strike his chest.

"You are to wed lady Deanna of Winchester." –This rose a united gasp from the men. Castiel's moth dropped open as he heard the spoken name, realizing the meaning of it.

Lady Deanna was the princess of the Winchester kingdom. Little was known of her but a lot was spoken of.

Tales spoke of a dragon that guarded the Winchester castle, of forests enchanted with black magic, of demons and trolls that strode their land. The Winchester kingdom was a mystery for all.

Only few people have ever seen the Winchesters, they mostly communicated with other kingdoms through messengers.

Although, a lot was said for Deanna. Those who had had the honor to see her, spoke of her beauty, of tan, sun kissed skin, of rosy freckles that spotted her soft skin, of puckered, bow like lips of an angel, of golden locks of silky hair, and green eyes as the bloom of spring.

This was surely a challenge.

But, it was worth it.

"This is a mighty difficult task, as you must already know. But, if you manage to complete this task, you will be ruler of the Winchester kingdom, as is tradition. I grant you permission to use help from our Magician, Crowley. Are you accepting, Castiel?"- King Michael spoke.

"I have never declined a challenge."- Castiel answered with conviction.

King Michael smiled, as all men around them rose in a cheer, giving them both a standing ovation.

-/-

"Sire, I beseech thee to stop this nonsense! This is a too high task, even for you, my lord!" –Gabriel the peasant ( and village idiot ) spoke from Castiel's side, as they made their way to the dark chambers of the magicians room.

"I have dealt with greater obstacles, Gabriel." –Castiel dismissed his vassal.

"Sometimes, you seem a greater fool than me, sire..."- Gabriel huffed the words.

"Silence before I smacketh dee!" –Castiel lost his patience as he threw a warning glance back to the peasant.

Gabriel was a menace, and more of a burden than a help he was. But, Gabriel had always been by Castiel's side. Even though the peasant was of low rank, he was still very faithful to him.

Although in times like this, when he was being disrespectful, Castiel wondered why he even took him in.

Finally, they stopped in front of a dark, wooden door, swollen with moisture and dirt.

Castiel pushed the door open, immediately reaching a hand to his nose to stifle the strong aroma of weeds and potions.

They made their way inside, being careful to not push at the multiple tables, stuffed with books, bottles, pages upon pages, jars with conspicuous items, even a dead goat hung from the wall.

"Crowley!"- Castiel managed to retrieve his hand, grimacing still at the strong smells.

"Lord Castiel! What a pleasure! What a pleasure indeed! Come! Come now!" –Crowley, the magician came from beneath a table, knocking his head in his haste. He wore a long, dirty, black wizards cloak, his face was scruffed and his eyes were rimmed red.

Castiel felt a bit put off by the wizards attitude. He had seen Crowley at times, and the man always struck him as mischievous. He had something off about his gaze.

"I have been told everything! I know everything, my lord, I am all ready for you!"

"How are you even aware what magic I need?"

"I am a wizard! I know all! I know you need to find the castle of Winchester, do you not?"- Crowley grinned in a gruesome manner.

"Well, yes..."- Castiel felt a little unsure of the whole situation but, king Michael trusted this man to be the kingdom's magician so he should trust him too.

"Then come! Quickly, now!"- Crowley ushered them through the rows of gimmicks, under the dim light of the sunset.

"My vassal will be joining me."

"Yes, yes ofcourse. Now, now drink this, quickly!"- Crowley said as he held a goblet at Castiel's nose. Castiel took the cup hesitantly, eyeing the blood red liquid there and, against his better judgment took a deep gulp, handing the cup over to the smaller man, wincing at the burn in his throat.

"What exactly will this spell do?"- Castiel's voice came out even gruffer than usual, as his vassal coughed beside him, gagging from the liquid.

"This tastes like a nun's bottom!"

"Do not disrespect the sisters!"- Castiel exclaimed as he threw a punch over the peasant's greasy locks.

"Oh, oh, not much, just remove you from my lord, Lucifer's plans." –Crowley chuckled darkly.

"W-What?"- But, Castiel couldn't concentrate on what was said, as he could only catch faint mutterings in Latin, before the whole room started swaying, his vision blurring, eye lids dropping, stomach clenching, chest burning.

And before he knew it, he found himself falling, and falling, deeper and deeper and deeper.

Until he felt a heavy thud, his body hitting ground.

Soft ground.

He hear faint musings before he caught a glimpse of what was before him.

Freckles. Deep and rosy, pelted over tan skin. Bright, vivid green eyes looking confused and a tad irritated.

"I have found you my princess."- Were the last words he uttered as he felt deep sleep cloak over his mind and body.

-/-

"Dude, did this guy just call you 'his princess'"- Sam couldn't stifle the chuckle from his voice, as he stood beside his brother, who was hunched over the fallen man's form.

"Shut up, bitch" –Dean huffed the words, as he turned to glare at his brother.

"Jerk."

**So I really hope you liked it. I pretty much have this all planned out. This was inspired by 'Les voyagers' or 'Just visiting' as is the American version. At first I wanted to make this just a crack fic, but I got caught up with all these things I wanted to portray, so here you go! Although next chapter will have lots of more funnies, you know, Dean teaching Cas about the modern world, Cas not getting references, some Sabriel... **

**So, if you liked it, and if you're interested in reading more please feel free to review and also give some critique. :) **


	2. Chapter 2

"So, what the hell are we gonna do about 'em?"- Dean asked his brother Sam as he straightened his form from the crouch he held over the fallen man.

"Well, we cant just leave them here..." –Sam mused, sounding unsure of himself.

"There are probably lunatics Sam! We sure as hell can leave them."- Dean spoke aggravated.

"You're just mad that guy called you a princess."- Sam chuckled, unable to get over his amusement.

"Sam. You're pushing it."- Dean threatened his brother with a pointed finger, shaking it in his direction.

"Ok, ok. But, we have to get them out of here. Lunatics or not, we cant just... Leave them unconscious like this." –Sam reasoned with his brother.

"Then what should we do?" –With a sigh Dean gave in.

"Well, if we're gonna carry them to our car, you know take them to hospital or something, we'll have to get these... armors or whatever off. No way are we able to carry them like this." – Sam said with a nod. Originally their plan was to visit the castle of Michael the VIth, while they were staying here in England. It was one of their more exotic roadtrips that's for sure. But they needed the change, after their father John had passed away.

And here, in the midst of the woods, 2 hour walk away from the castle they came upon them.

They were both very strange. Dean supposed they were holding a festival or whatever, one of those things when everybody dresses like they're from the dark ages. It was the only logical conclusion. Although they looked very authentic, he had to admit.

The one that addressed Dean as 'princess' ( which he cringed upon thinking of) had a full on knight outfit, metal armor, silver chains, clanky boots and all. Even his eyes, which Dean had only caught a glimpse of seemed distant, old, like they've lived and seen ages of time.

The other one, the smaller guy, had a big heavy looking brown coat, something akin to tights, long dirty hair and a small face. He looked lesser than the knight.

They really put some sweat into their costumes, Dean thought as he came down to the knight again, making work of the plate armor of his chest.

"We have not wed yet, my princess..." –The man grumbled suddenly, his voice laid with sleep, brows furrowed on the edge of wakefulness.

Dean gaped at the other man, not even catching the snickers coming from his left where Sam was hunched over the smaller man.

Feeling quite annoyed by this man's idea of funny, he quickly picked up his bottle of water from his backpack, unscrew the cap and poured the remaining water over the man's face.

To this, the knight staggered up, right into Dean's face, huffing, his lips parted taking in big gulps of air, like the poured water really drowned him.

Dean although taken by surprise, stood his ground at the man's feet, decidedly not moving.

"What did you do to me?"- The knight's face changed from frantic to immediate fury. The change took Dean by surprise, seeing those bright blue eyes grow wary.

"I-Dude, you were passed out I was taking you to the hospital."- Dean spoke in an indignant voice.

"My name is not 'Dude'. I am Castiel Oktavian, honored knight in the name of Michael the VIth. Who are you peasant, and what hath you done to me and my vassal?"- The crazy psycho by the name of 'Castiel' spoke in a frenzy, his voice powerful, but his words were too crazy to be taken as intimidating.

"Well, uh, dude –"Dean mocked- " I am Dean Winchester, honored mechanic in the name of Singer's autoshop, and you and your buddy were passed out. And we wanted to help. But never mind that, you and your friend can continue down the road to loony vile. Just go easy on the acid." –And with those words Dean stood up not even sparing a glance to that dick, making to take his back pack, when suddenly, he felt a pair of strong arms pull him sideways, facing 'Castiel', and just as he was about to curse the sonuvabtich to next Sunday, he stopped upon seeing the look of absolute wonder on the man's face.

"You are, you are Dean of Winchester. You are related to Deanna Winchester."- 'Castiel' spoke hurriedly.

And here come the heritage wack-a-doo gold diggers.

"Yes, she was my great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandma, and no, I have nothing left from their kingdom, no I am not a blue-blood, and no I wont have coffee with you. Bye-bye." – Dean replied in his well worked line. History geeks were few, but God help you if you got stuck with one. Especially in a bar. And if you're drunk. And you start telling them you're a prince. Yeah, not really ideal.

Dean finally managed to get his backpack, signaled for Sam to get going, who with a puzzled wonder picked up his own, and just when he thought they were clean came a heavy clunk of metal dropping on the ground.

Turning he saw the bowing form of the knight, head slung down.

"I express my deepest apologies, sire. I did not know you are royalty, forgive me, forgive my simple mind, I beg of you, forgive me. "- Dean felt startled by the deep grieving tone of the man's voice, like he really believed he did some sin. What's more it felt completely genuine, humble even.

Stark difference from before.

Dean stood in silence glancing between Sam and the crouched man, looking for answers as to what he should do.

"Sire, please... Please, don't punish me..." –The knight said in such a broken tone, borderline sob, that Dean felt himself brake a little.

"Look, it's cool." –Dean finally voiced, to which Castiel raised his head a little giving Dean a puzzled expression.

"Ah, you know, it's fine, no, no hard feelings." –Dean stuttered his way through the sentence.

"Your mercy knows no limits, sire. Allow me to be your faithful guardian. I will protect you with a brave heart and steel sword." –'Castiel' said whilst pulling out a long, scary as hell sword, which made a slicing sound in the air.

"Wow, wow, dude, just put that back. Put it away. And, just, take your friend over there, and you come with us, and we'll figure it out, ok?" –Upon seeing the sword Dean remembered that they still very much crazy.

He didn't have the time to address all of the other issues right now, just take them somewhere, anywhere.

"Anything you wish."

"Yeah, sure..." –Dean sighed as he turned away and towards the way back to the Impala.

"So, uh, does this mean you've found your prince Charming?" –Sam said with a prolonged chuckle.

"Just so you know, that guy vowed to be my guardian. And he has a sword. A real one. Not like the ones you and your geeks use."

"They're called light sabers, Dean!"

"Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night."

**Updates of this size will be more frequent, glad you liked and thank you for your reviews, really keeps me motivated. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

They were making their way through the forest, stumbling on branches and rocks. Dean and Sam led the way up front, while Castiel carried the cloaked man on his shoulder, his heavy armor clanking against passing trees and scattered rocks.

"So what exactly are we gonna do with them?"- Dean asked his brother in an unnerved voice. Sure he was a grown ass man, but dammit that was a real sword! Swords kill people. Loony knights with bright eyes with swords kill people. Not to mention, they were in a damn forest! Wasn't there like, that saying, if a tree falls in a forest and there's no one else to hear it, will it make a sound? If you scream like fuck, while a knight is dicing you and no one's there to hear it does it count as murder? A shudder passed through him at his thoughts.

"Simple. We get them in the car, and we take 'em to a hospital. And that's all." –Sam reasoned with him, tone calming.

"Hey, uh, Castiel do you need some water, maybe?"- Sam turned back towards the armed man.

"I have fought through the darkest of evil surviving only on the sight of blood I've spilt from the abominations. I don't 'need' for anything. Although, water would be refreshing, yes." – Castiel came to a stop, sweat shining on his forehead, hair matted against it.

"Whatever, dude."- Sam huffed and rummaged through his backpack to retrieve a water bottle. He handed the plastic bottle towards Castiel, who's eyes widened with confusion. He took the bottle in his hand gingerly, the other man still propped on his shoulder.

"What is this curious container?" –Castiel examined the bottle with sharp eyes, looking almost offended by the bottle.

"Dude, it's a water bottle. I get the whole knight costume, but this isn't the medieval ages anymore."- Dean was the one get frustrated now.

Although the reaction this arose from Castiel was unexpected.

"You say this... This is not the... What you said before, of Deanna, you said she is... What year is it?"- Castiel stumbled through his shock, and Dean got the feeling the guy was about to pass out.

"It's 2012. December, 10th. "- Dean was so creeped out by the guy he didn't find it funny anymore.

"The wizard. He sent me to the apocalypse. To the end of the world. He sent me to die. But, but he is a fool."- Castiel chuckled absently, amazement gleaming in his eyes." It was said, in the year of the apocalypse, as the world will crash and burn, a long lost soul will defy time and God's laws and meet his... One true love."- The knight dropped the body on his shoulder to the ground, a heavy thump transcending through the deafening silence that fell. He approached Dean with a slow stride, a dazed smile set on his face.

Confused and scared as fuck, Dean could only stand stoic still as he watched the man approach him.

"Together, they will beat destiny and live happily ever after." – Castiel came to a stop in front of Dean, personal space be gone.

"The beauty of a damsel, and the body of a warrior. The blood of a noble and humility of a civilian. This is no coincidence, Dean. We were meant to be." –Castiel cupped Dean's cheeks with shaking hands, his voice carrying a wistful tone.

"Get. The Fuck. Off me."

**So this is the shortest chapter I have ever dared post here, but for this story chapters will be shorter, but like I said more frequent! This chapter was just right to end here, so please, don't be disappointed. :) I will probably update another one (longer! ) tomorrow so no worries. :) Still I hope this made you laugh and whatnot, and just, thank you to anyone who would care to review, every single one of you means a lot. :) Thanks again for reading and reviewing.**


	4. Chapter 4

"I haven't put upon you a "fuck"."- Castiel spoke slowly, as if the one that was crazy was Dean.

This only made Dean fume even more.

"Fuck as in fuck off!"- Dean yelled at the knight, grabbing him by the wrists and pushing him back. Which proved to be a surprisingly difficult task, as the man seemed of a slighter build than him, but, eh, go figure.

"I have upset you." –There is a question somewhere in that statement.

"Damn right you've upset me! You call me a fucking princess and act like I'm a, like I'm your fucking wife! I don't do crazy! I don't, okay! So I'm leaving! Sam!"- Dean shouted his anger finally reaching it's peak.

"Yeah,yeah..."- Sam quickly came to follow Dean, leaving his stand beside the other fallen man, who just seemed to be waking up. That would have been fun...

And just as they thought they were clear, again, something had to come in the way.

A loud, booming noise came over the forest. Dean felt himself crumble to the floor, holding his hands over his ears, trying to stifle the loud, unbearable noise. It more felt, than sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

And just like that in a second it was gone.

Dean huffed from where he was kneeled on the ground, grass tickling his nose, and turned towards his brother who was in much the same position as him.

"Dude... The fuck..."-Was all he could voice before he heard the scene behind him.

"Azazel!"- Castiel spoke with spite apparent in his voice, his face almost immediately darkening.

"My lord, what hath... Oh holy dragon balls!" –The small man that previously lay unconscious yelped upon seeing the so-called Azazel.

"Step aside, Gabriel. You are of no help here."- Castiel didn't even spare a glance at the so called Gabriel, who quickly shuffled up on his feet, managing to stumble and fall a total of three times in his first three steps.

"Well, oh my. The noble Castiel has been stranded all alone, with no king Michael to scurry to his bum."- The man they called Azazel spoke. He also had a knight's outfit, although his was topped off with a blood red cloak, and a horned helmet. As soon as Dean got a glimpse of his face he saw shining yellow eyes, looking very cat like.

"He has me to cater to his bum!"- Gabriel piped up, voice sounding as if it were a great feat.

"Silence you sniveling ass!"- Castiel shouted over both of the men's voices, his own gravel like tone full of power. When he spoke he demanded respect, even Dean noted a shiver travel down his spine.

"As for you, creature of sin, who sent you here?"- He said whilst pulling out his sword, directing its whole length in Azazel's direction.

"The one true, lord Lucifer. Unlike you, the potion is taking me back towards my time in a matter of an hour. I was sent to make sure you don't see the green fields of home."- Azazel spoke with malice, pulling his own twisted and dirty sword.

"You will do no such thing. You will not live long enough to breathe the air of our time."-

"Oh, really? Then what, would you say if I were to take your Winchester?"- Azazel said and for the first time directed his gaze towards Dean.

Dean felt his knees tremble with a weird pang of freight.

"My... How do you know of him?"- Castiel's voice rose, his tone trembling with rage and what Dean identified as worry.

"Oh, don't think Crowley set you off without keeping an eye on you."- He said the words and a rotten smile spread his lips.

"An eye... He charmed my necklace!"- Castiel's voice grew with anger and realization. It was a known black magic, 'The All Seeing Eye'. A charm that was mostly cast upon helmets or necklaces, somewhere where 'The Eye' could follow your line of vision clearly. One you've cast 'The Eye' you had an exclusive look to the man's world, following his every step in the mirror of enchanted water. And Crowley saw all.

"Oh, yes. And we've had much fun watching you express your love to the Winchester. Alas, all which is good must come to an end. In conclusion this is where I take his head, and then yours, sending you to the depth of death with sorrow in your eyes and fear in your heart."- And with those last words, Azazel made a run towards Dean.

Dean couldn't even let a scream past his lips, he could only concentrate on the gleaming stained iron that was the sword and his own scared reflection in it.

So this was where life ended for him: in the midst of a forest in fucking England, whole continent away from home, his brother crouched on the grass next to him, a loony knight professing his love for him, a cloaked loony knight taking his head, and a dirty peasant over them. Yeah, life's a novel.

And just as he shut his eyes in defeat, he heard a sharp clank, right beside his ear. He opened his eyes to two swords clashed in front of him.

He looked up to see Castiel standing over him, a look of pure fury on his face.

"You will not take Dean. I would die before I let you take him."- He said with grave certainty in his voice.

Azazel grunted and with a battle cry descended to whip his sword against Castiel's

"Fine, I will kill you first and then your precious prince." –He snarled the words.

Dean watched the fight unravel before his eyes with amazement. Everything was so confusing, all of his emotions were a bundle of mess, so he only concentrated on amazement. Everything was just too surreal to not feel amazed.

Their swords clashed, dancing around each other, twisting their elbows according to the other knight's movements, each trying to get a clean shot at the other.

As the fight prolonged, Castiel seemed to be taking the lead, pushing Azazel backwards with every swing, making the man grumble with frustration and anger.

And finally with a battle cry, Castiel found his chance and gave a swift swing of his swords, and in went the sword through Azazel's armor right into his heart. A loud splutter of blood was heard, making Azazel stop in his tracks, body going stiff, sword sliding away from his arm.

Castiel stood his ground in front of the dying knight, twisting the sword deeper in the man's chest until it came out of the man's back, blood slicken and dripping.

"I hope you are seeing this, Crowley. This is a message for you and your abomination, Lucifer. This is the fate that awaits all who come to harm Dean and I. You will not go unpunished."- And with those words, he pulled the sword out of the other man with one fluent movement. As the body dropped on the ground, Castiel let his sword drop.

Finally he took the necklace off his neck, gave it a sorrowful look and dropped it to the ground, in the pool of blood that plagued the bright green grass.

Dean finally let out a brother he hadn't realized he'd been holding and made to stand up, as did his brother.

They gave each other a long look, one of fright, perturbation and confusion.

"I apologize for what you hath witnessed here. I only hope to keep you safe, Dean. You and your brother."- Castiel turned his eyes towards Dean, gaze full of pain and concern.

Like the fact that he had to fight, the fact that people were out to kill him, that he just killed someone wasn't the big issue here.

It was Dean's mental health.

"Uh, no worries." –Was all Dean managed through his haze of emotion.

"So, you said something about time-travel?"

**Yay, new (LONGER!) chapter is done! I hope you liked, and next chapter we'll have everyone discussing everything and an intimate moment between Dean and Cas I've been planning for a long time. ;) Also, finally, we'll be getting some of Gabriel's sillines and Sam's anarcho-feminism. x) And let me just say thank you all so much for reviewing, you have no idea how much this all means to me I love every single one of you, and send a bunch of warm hugs to all. :) Thank you so much for your support!**


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